


Gods & Devils

by Aleph_Null



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Bloodplay, Diego is Desert Bluffs Carlos, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rough Sex, Sexual Aggression, Sexual Tension, Tattoos, Teasing, diego is an asshole, dubcon, how kevin happened
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 19:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8590972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleph_Null/pseuds/Aleph_Null
Summary: “Well, hi there!”  Kevin’s voice, already high and chipper, rose at least another half octave at the sight of the beautiful, beautiful man walking through the door.  “What can we help you with today?”The stranger turned slightly, and his blindingly white lab coat swished around his knees.  He was even more perfect than Kevin had first thought, with dark skin and a chiselled jaw and absolutely perfect hair pulled back in a curly ponytail, and Kevin nearly swooned as the man caught sight of him and started towards him.  His eyes flicked minutely up and down - was he checking Kevin out? he felt lightheaded - and a tiny, smug smirk crossed his plump lips.  As he walked, he shrugged the coat off his shoulders, catching it at his elbows and slowly pulling out one arm, then the other and folding it in half over one forearm.  Underneath he wore a crisp orange button down and slacks that fit well on his slim hips, which swayed slightly as he walked.  If Kevin had been a dog, he would have been panting.“You can help me with a great many things,” the man said as he made it to the counter, placing a lascivious emphasis on the first word.  “As for what I’m here for, I thought that would be obvious.  A tattoo.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a tattoo AU (because I can't get enough of them) completely separate from the Pins & Needles AU, focussing on Kevin and how he may have come to be...well, Kevin. Basically. It's a little difficult to explain, but in the meantime, I'm having a ton of fun with it.
> 
> If you like what I'm doing here and would like to encourage me to do more, please leave kudos or a comment, or come [scream at me on tumblr](http://oh-fanon-my-canon.tumblr.com). As always, thanks to the brilliant, wonderful, sweet [PageofD](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PageofD/pseuds/PageofD) for his input and encouragement. This wouldn't be going anywhere without him.
> 
> Thanks for checking this out. Buckle in, it might be a bumpy ride.

“Well, hi there!”  Kevin’s voice, already high and chipper, rose at least another half octave at the sight of the beautiful, beautiful man walking through the door.  “What can we help you with today?”

The stranger turned slightly, and his blindingly white lab coat swished around his knees.  He was even more perfect than Kevin had first thought, with dark skin and a chiselled jaw and absolutely  _ perfect _ hair pulled back in a curly ponytail, and Kevin nearly swooned as the man caught sight of him and started towards him.  His eyes flicked minutely up and down - was he checking Kevin out? he felt lightheaded - and a tiny, smug smirk crossed his plump lips.  As he walked, he shrugged the coat off his shoulders, catching it at his elbows and slowly pulling out one arm, then the other and folding it in half over one forearm.  Underneath he wore a crisp orange button down and slacks that fit well on his slim hips, which swayed slightly as he walked.  If Kevin had been a dog, he would have been panting.

“ _ You  _ can help me with a great many things,” the man said as he made it to the counter, placing a lascivious emphasis on the first word.  “As for what I’m here for, I thought that would be obvious.  A tattoo.”

“Okay,” Kevin said, and he was pleased to find he could hardly detect the quaver in his voice.  “Did you already have a design in mind, or -”

“This.”  The man reached into one of the pockets of the lab coat and drew out a sketchbook, flicking through the pages and then slapping it down on the counter.  “If you think it’s possible.”

Though he was loathe to stop looking at this new possible client, Kevin’s eyes flicked downwards - and he stared.  It was gorgeous, a complicated swirling and - most impressively - symmetrical mass of black, reminiscent of an Elder God stretching its appendages from a central point all around, to the heavens, to the depths, to this plane in order to more easily snag its human prey.  He sucked in his breath through his teeth.  He wasn’t certain he could do such a piece of art justice; he was only recently graduated from his apprenticeship, and most of what he did on a daily basis was flash work off the wall.  He’d only had one or two commission pieces, and those he had drawn himself and made modifications depending on the client’s preferences.  No one had come to him yet with their own artwork.

Reverently, Kevin took the sketchbook by its edges and drew it closer.  It was… phenomenal.  It spoke to him on some deep, hidden level, where the light seldom shone and creatures growled in the corners.  It was dark, writhing, sadistic.  He shivered delectably, then immediately hoped the man hadn’t noticed.  “And… where did you want to have this piece?”

The man smirked at him.  “My chest.”

Kevin wasn’t sure he hadn’t passed out; for a moment, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.  This gorgeous creature had come into his shop, presented him with this amazing artwork, then wanted it in a place that would necessitate many hours bent over his (presumably) perfect body.  Someone pinch him, he must have been dreaming.

“Hmm,” Kevin said to cover for his lapse.  “Do you mind if I take this in the back for a moment and show it to one of my coworkers?  I’m just out of my apprenticeship, and I think this is a little beyond my skill,” he said truthfully, tracing the edge of the page delicately with one finger.

“I’m certain that you’re the man for the job,” the stranger said, a purr entering his voice.  “But please, whatever you think.”  He motioned for Kevin to do what he wanted, and Kevin snatched up the sketchbook and bolted down the hallway behind the reception desk.

He almost smacked straight into a young apprentice leaving his mentor’s cubicle, and he called out a hurried, “Sorry, Vanessa!” as he skidded to a halt behind Lauren, hunched over her desk working on a custom design.

“What is it, Kevin?” she asked without looking up, focussing on getting the current stroke of her pencil just right.

“Can you look at this?” he said breathlessly, holding the sketchbook out to her.  “This guy just brought it in, and I don’t know if I’m on that level at all, and I wouldn’t know how to charge for it -”

Lauren’s eyes flicked over to the drawing, then back to her own.  Then, widening, back to the sketchbook.  She turned fully away from her desk, swivelling her chair so that she faced Kevin, and snapped her fingers.  He handed her the book dutifully, then folded his hands together and stood silently as she surveyed the artwork.

“This is amazing,” she said quietly, almost as though she had forgotten he was there.  Her fingers brushed lightly over the ink on the page, caressing it as though worshiping the god it depicted.  “Did he draw this?  He should come work here!  I would offer extensive compensation to have this kind of talent on staff.”

“I don’t think he’s in the tattoo business,” Keven said.  “He was wearing a lab coat.  Some kind of doctor or scientist, I guess.”

His words seemed to bring her back to this plane of reality, and she glanced up at him.  “Kevin, you underestimate yourself.  You have plenty of confidence, but it’s misplaced.  This is something I think you could recreate  _ phenomenally _ .  You have a very… unique style, and this is right up your alley.  I see no reason why you couldn’t do this yourself, and in fact I insist that you do.”  She smiled a little and held the sketchbook out for him to take back.  “Even if I’m not your Master anymore.”

“You really think so?” he said, accepting the book from her carefully.

“Kevin, when have you ever known me to doubt myself?” she said, turning back to her artwork.  “Now, don’t keep that man waiting.  Oh, wait - as for what to charge, shop standard plus whatever you think your work is worth on top of that.  I’d put that in at about twelve hours, probably, if he wants more than just solid black.  If not, call it eight.”

Feeling as though in a daze, Kevin clutched the book to his chest as he floated back up the hallway to where the man was standing, waiting, his fingers drumming on the glass countertop.  When he caught sight of Kevin, his face - well, it didn’t brighten, exactly, but there was a warm, wet gleam in his eyes, and his half smile reappeared.  “Well?”

Kevin cleared his throat as he took his seat again and set the sketchbook down.  He opened a drawer and pulled out a form on three part carbonless, sliding it across the counter to the man.  “We’d be delighted,” he said in what he hoped was a sultry voice.  “I just need you to fill out this waiver and take a copy of your driver’s license.”  He accepted the card the man held out, surreptitiously checking the name.   _ Diego _ .  Oh, if that didn’t roll over his tongue like a velvet cattle prod.  Kevin made the photocopy quickly and handed the man -  _ Diego _ \- his identification back.  As he worked on the form, Kevin did his standard spiel about deposit amounts and what they were willing to quote this work at as well as the timeline for the follow up work.  Diego didn’t say anything, only nodded as he wrote, like it was all already common knowledge, even though Kevin knew it was precisely the opposite.  He couldn’t count the number of people that came in wanting large tattoos or a design drawn up on the spot.  Diego wordlessly handed over the form and the pen, then pulled out his wallet and counted out ten twenty dollar bills for his deposit.  Kevin took the money and the form and filed them away with the photocopy, then looked down at his new client’s artwork again.

“Did you want to look through some of the artists’ portfolios and get an idea of who you might like to do it, or -”

“No, I think you’ll do just fine,” the man purred.

  
  


The buzz of the tattoo machine filled the still air of Kevin’s cubicle as he bent over Diego’s (perfect) chest, stretching the skin and wiping occasionally at excess ink and blood with his right hand as he guided the needles over the stencil.  He shifted slightly on his stool, leaning his left forearm on his client’s shoulder and angling his wrist in order to finish off the curve of a tendril coming up over the collarbone.  Diego let out a little sound, and Kevin lifted the needle immediately, glancing sideways to his face.

“You all right?” he asked, searching the man’s face for any indication of extreme discomfort.  “Do you want to take a break?”

“I’m wonderful,” Diego murmured, his eyes sliding open.  His pupils were blown wide; he sounded sluggish, relaxed, and a slow, crooked smile crossed his face.  “There’s nothing in the world quite like this.  You’ve got… a very nice touch.”

“Thank you,” Kevin said, though he wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or not.  He set the needles into a cap of black ink and hit the foot pedal, then dabbed away the extra and settled down to his work again.

“Especially for someone - ah - just out of apprenticeship,” Diego continued, gasping as Kevin followed another line just under the collarbone, and the sound sent a delicious shiver down Kevin’s spine.  They were only doing the preliminary linework today; he would come back in a few weeks to get started on the shading and fill, which (he subtly hoped, shifting again on his seat) would lead to many hours of Diego lying prone under his hand, making soft noises that raced straight from his ears to his groin.

“My mentor was adamant that I get away from having a heavy hand from the beginning,” Kevin answered.  “She does beautiful work, and her pieces barely scab.”  He stopped talking for a moment, focussing on the line thickness of the tendril, moving very slowly over the thin skin over the bone.  A low hiss escaped Diego, and he gripped at the side of the table, fingers going white.

Another little thrill danced through Kevin as he wiped at the spot.  Oh, yes.  Hopefully many, many hours.

“I don’t need a break,” Diego said as Kevin inspected the needles and prepared to re-ink them, “but I could use a cigarette.  Do you mind?”  
Kevin glanced at the clock; he had blocked out three solid hours for this appointment, and they’d been here for nearly half of that already.  He didn’t have any other demands on his time this afternoon; Vanessa was doing the walk-ins today, under Lauren’s watchful eye.  “Whatever you want,” Kevin said, and he set his machine down on a clean paper towel, wiping once more at the (beautiful) skin he had just marked.  With a snap, he pulled off his gloves and moved to the corner sink to wash his hands.  He heard Diego shifting on the table, fumbling in his lab coat pocket.  When he turned, the man held a pack of cigarettes and a Zippo in one hand, standing by the door with one eyebrow quirked.

Kevin couldn’t resist letting out a little giggle.  Oh, this man was gorgeous.  He felt privileged to touch him, much less to be allowed to tattoo him.  He followed Diego out through the shop, admiring the smooth skin of his back as they exited and moved to the end of the sidewalk, away from the door.  Diego pulled out a cigarette and flicked his lighter open, striking and lighting the smoke in one smooth motion before closing it against his hip.  He took a deep drag and let out a cloud of smoke in a long, satisfied sigh.  He glanced at Kevin, who felt a flush burning up the back of his neck as he realised he had been staring.

“I’m sorry,” the man said.  “Would you like one?”  He held out the pack to him, flipping the top of the carton open.

Gingerly, Kevin took a cigarette between his thumb and forefinger.  It had been a long time since his last cigarette, and he was suddenly itching, even though he thought he had kicked the habit years ago.  He drew it out and placed it between his lips, startled slightly when Diego flicked his lighter and held the flame to its tip.  The flood of a never-quite-forgotten nicotine rush crashed through him, and he grunted as he sucked the smoke greedily.  Diego let out a breathy chuckle, turning to look at the street as he took another, more leisurely drag.

“So,” Kevin said quietly, leaning back against the brick wall behind them, his eyes dancing over his client’s bared torso.  “Is this your first tattoo?”

“Not my first,” Diego said, joining him, and he was close, too close; the skin of his upper arm brushed against Kevin’s shoulder, and he shuddered.  “I’ve got a couple on my feet, one on my thigh… To be honest, I’ve always been more interested in piercings and… other things, but tattoos are great, too.”  He flicked his gaze sideways at Kevin, then looked away.  “My profession doesn’t look too kindly upon body modification, so I have to be discreet.”

“And… what is it you do?” Kevin asked, flicking the end of his cigarette to kill the ash collecting on the tip out of nervous habit.

Diego let out a harsh laugh.  “I’m a doctor.  Ironic, I know,” he added, lifting his cigarette to make his point.  “But you’d be surprised how many healthcare professionals smoke, not to mention do other things.”  His eyes raked over Kevin’s body, lingering over the exposed skin.  “And you?  I have to admit, I find it odd that a tattoo artist doesn’t have any tattoos.”

“I have some,” Kevin protested, his heart thudding in his throat.  He turned his back to Diego suddenly, set the half-gone cigarette on the windowsill beside them, and pulled up his shirt by the hem.  When it was bunched up around his neck, his arms crossed almost comfortably there, he knew his piece was on full display, an optical illusion that tricked the eye into seeing his skin falling away into total blackness in blocks, exposing his actual ribcage and spine against an endless void - at least, that was what the completed piece would do.  So far, it was pretty bare bones; most of the skeletal part was done, but the illusion was still taking shape.  “It’s not finished yet; I’ve only put in about twenty hours on it, and we’re estimating closer to sixty, to be completely honest.”

A cool breeze swept over the skin of his back, and then he felt the lightest touch on his shoulder blade, tracing the bold lines and intricate patterns designed to cause the viewer to study it more closely.  A shiver ran up his spine as Diego’s fingers ran down it, coming to a stop just above the waist of his jeans, then pressing more forcefully as they came back up.  He pressed his hand flat against the right side of his back, sliding his fingers over the tattooed ribcage and moving in closer, so that Kevin could feel his body heat radiating.  “It’s beautiful,” he whispered, his breath stirring the hair by Kevin’s ear.  Smoke wafted up from Diego’s cigarette, burning filter and stinking, but Kevin couldn’t make himself care; an involuntary whimper escaped his throat, his arms trapped by his t-shirt behind his neck.  Diego’s lips brushed the shell of his ear, nudging a few of the rings in his cartilage and sending a shock straight to his cock.

Then he moved away, laughing quietly and trailing his fingers over Kevin’s overly sensitive skin.  Shaking slightly, Kevin let his shirt fall back over his torso, tugging it into place over his hips and turning back around.  Diego’s eyes gleamed with promise as he stubbed out his burning filter and tossed it in the flower pot full of cat litter that served as an ashtray for the shop; the fresh tattoo on his chest gleamed in the sunlight, shiny and swollen and dark.  Kevin swallowed hard and checked his own abandoned cigarette, finding it had put itself out and deciding to leave it there… for later.

“Shall we?” Diego murmured, locking eyes with him and motioning back towards the front door.

Kevin swallowed hard and nodded, leading the way back into the studio, taking deep breaths in an effort to still his quaking hands.  It wouldn’t do to have an unsteady hand, not for the level of intricacy this piece required, even in the line art stage.  Not for this client.

  
  
  


“How did you get into this?”

Diego was once again on his table, shirtless and laid out like a sacrifice.  Kevin quirked an eyebrow at him as he re-inked his needles and dipped them into water to dilute the color.

“This, you mean tattooing?” he asked, hunching over the part they were working on today, a particularly detailed section just under Diego’s left collarbone.

“Yeah,” Diego said, hissing as the tattoo machine touched him and started stroking ink into skin.  “What piqued your interest?”

Kevin hummed as he thought through his response.  This was session three out of a planned six, and they had gotten to know each other a little bit in the last two, though Diego seemed to go into a trance for most of the process, thus rendering any attempt at conversation moot.  Today, however, he had seemed agitated, impatient, like he couldn’t wait for the work to be done.  There were things about himself he would never share with a client; one of them was the reason he had gone into body modification in the first place.  At the thought, the new scabs on his back seemed to itch more intensely.  Diego was a special case.

“I’ve always been interested in the human body,” Kevin said, sweeping the needles across the same spot a few times to get the shading just right.  “I was in med school, ages ago,” he added casually.

“Med school,” Diego murmured through clenched teeth as the machine dug into the same place over and over.  “What were you going for?”

“Surgery,” Kevin said, and he drew the machine away, wiping at the newly-shaded patch of skin.  He eyed the color critically, then inked his needles again and ducked back to it.  “Cosmetic surgery was my ultimate goal, but it didn’t quite feel right, after a while.”

Diego hummed as Kevin moved to another part of the tattoo.  In the background, some 2000s metal band played on his stereo, filling the silence between them as his machine started, stopped, started again.  “What didn’t feel right?”

Kevin paused the movement of his machine and pulled it up, flicking his eyes up to Diego’s face.  The man wasn’t looking at him, instead his gaze darting over the various magazine photos whose subjects Kevin had drawn on and which were pasted all over the ceiling.  As he weighed his next words, Kevin leaned back on his stool and rolled his neck, working out a kink that had started to form.  “It all seemed very bland,” he said finally.  “And to be completely honest, the things people seem to want from it - it’s not beautiful to me.  ‘Make me look younger,’ ‘make me prettier,’ ‘make me look good for my wife again,’” he added in a mocking voice.  “If I made them what I thought was pretty, they’d sue and throw me in jail.”  With a huff, he bent back over Diego’s chest, a flood of bitterness he’d thought he’d escaped returning with a vengeance.

“In that case, body modification sounds like the perfect profession for you,” the man murmured, his voice tight as the needle punched into his skin again.  He lifted the arm opposite the side Kevin was working on and pointed to one of the spreads on the ceiling.  “Have you thought of trying to learn how to do something like that?”

Kevin paused again and glanced upwards, following Diego’s finger.  This one was of some movie star or another, a three-quarter headshot framed dramatically against a black background.  Kevin had blacked out his sclera so his blue irises seemed to pop straight out, ‘clipped’ his ears by blending his marker with the background of the photograph, and taken a fine tip to his face, inking out a swirling design that curved from temple to cheek to neck, following the natural lines of his face.  
“Is that the sort of thing you find beautiful?”

His voice vibrated in his chest under Kevin’s forearm, low and intimate.  Kevin dropped his gaze to Diego’s face and saw with a jolt that the man’s eyes were locked on his, a darkness dancing behind them.  He didn’t look disgusted, or afraid, or any other kind of emotion that Kevin had gotten as a response to his less-than-traditional aesthetic.  If anything, he looked…  _ hungry. _

A shiver throttled him, and he wheeled his stool back from the table a bit, breaking contact with Diego and setting his tattoo machine down on the counter.   _ Slow down, _ he told himself, even as his heart sped up.  Other words danced through his head as they had a dozen times before, things like ‘unprofessional’ and ‘undignified,’ but it was getting harder, the more sessions they spent working on this piece, to place the effect this man had on him behind the artist’s mask.

“Yes,” he said finally, avoiding Diego’s avid stare.

A warm chuckle swept over his skin, bristling the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck.  He turned away completely, swivelling the stool and peeling off his gloves with shaking hands.  “Do you want a smoke break?  We’ve been at it a couple hours, now -”

He stopped talking suddenly as he felt the static of a human presence behind him.  He hadn’t even heard Diego move off the table, but suddenly there was a pair of hands on his shoulders, stroking down over his biceps and teasing under the edges of his sleeves.  “Oh, a break sounds wonderful,” Diego said, his body close enough that his voice thrummed through Kevin like heavy bass.  “But not for a smoke.”  His hands abandoned Kevin’s arms, sliding firmly down the outsides of his ribcage, sneaking up underneath the hem of his shirt and gripping hard at his hips, the little finger of one hand dipping down into his waistband.

With a gasp, Kevin tried to turn on his stool, but Diego’s hands held him in place.  A hot gust of air danced over his neck, and soft lips brushed gently at the sensitive skin behind his ear, tongue flicking out and teasing the hoops in his cartilage even while those fingers exerted bruising force on his hips.  He jerked against the restraint, but Diego just laughed, a mean little chuckle that sent his mind over the edge and set his cock to twitching, straining against the front of his jeans.

“Am I your last appointment today?” Diego murmured, his lips trailing down to the join between ear and jawline, one hand cruising up over the skin of his stomach and chest.  Kevin arched into the touch, moaning piteously.

“I - yes, but -”

“Good.”  The word came out as a growl of approval as thumb and forefinger tweaked his nipple, and a high, thin whine escaped him, and then, as suddenly as they had come, the hands disappeared from under his shirt and he heard Diego settle back down on the table, the vinyl squeaking as he shifted his weight.

Breathing hard, aching with want, Kevin turned, wide-eyed, to see his client reclined, just as relaxed as he had been before their little interlude.  His hands were folded together on his stomach, and he was once again studying the magazine spreads on the ceiling.  He glanced sidelong at Kevin, a wicked smirk on his lips, his dark eyes dancing, full of promise.

“I’d suggest we finish this up, then, and quickly.”

  
  


Kevin’s head bounced off the wall, sending bright lights dancing behind his closed eyelids.  He had no time to react; Diego’s lips descended on his, muffling his cry of pain and pleasure as he pressed their bodies together.  Kevin whimpered, melting against him, as a hand grabbed him by the hair and pulled,  _ hard. _  Teeth attacked his lips, biting without mercy; nails raked at the skin of his chest, curled cruelly into the flesh of his abdomen, leaving angry red trails and crescents in their wake.  Kevin broke the kiss with a gasp, throwing his head back and hitting the wall again as Diego’s lips and teeth migrated to his neck, nipping and biting and sucking at the column of his throat.  His other hand released Kevin’s hair and fumbled for his arm, gripping tight enough to grind the bones of his wrist together, raising it up above their heads, pinning it there so it could flex and struggle but not escape.

“Bedroom?” Kevin asked as Diego’s lips covered his again.  The man groaned, pressing his hips forward and grinding hard against Kevin’s erection.  With a keening moan, Kevin thrust against him, rutting through his jeans, seeking more friction, more feeling,  _ something  _ more than this.

“No,” Diego mumbled against his lips, tightening his hold on Kevin’s wrist.  He pulled Kevin forward, gripping him by the hip and spinning him faster than he could react, pushing him face-first against the wall again and molding his body to Kevin’s back.  Breath coming hot and fast on the back of Kevin’s neck, the man pinned both his wrists with one hand and used the other to stroke the front of his pants, his fingers flicking the button open and yanking down the zip, shoving at the fabric until it slid haltingly down to Kevin’s knees.

“You’re lovely,” Diego breathed in his ear, the slick fabric of his slacks sliding over his skin, the hard line of his fingers teasing around the one place they were needed most.

“I can’t - Diego, please,” Kevin said, twitching towards his fingers.  Diego laughed low in his ear and pulled his hand away, resting it on the curve of his hip, rubbing his cock against Kevin’s ass.  He caught one of Kevin’s piercings between his teeth and tugged at it.

“Patience, pet,” he said, his teeth clicking on the jewelry.  His fingernails gripped the flesh of Kevin’s hip with bruising force, tugging him backwards with a low, heavy moan, his belt buckle digging hard into his pelvis.  Diego’s lips trailed down the side of his neck, teeth scraping at the skin; Kevin shivered and tried to press backwards, writhing against their points of contact, seeking any sort of relief.

With a grunt, Diego released his hip and his wrists, one hand coming down to wrap around Kevin’s chest and pulling him flush against the front of his body.  The other finally palmed Kevin’s cock, squeezing and tugging just this side of pain.  His teeth latched onto the join between Kevin’s neck and shoulder; Kevin’s hands fluttered for a moment, unsure what to do now they were free, before reaching back and digging his fingers into the man’s thick hair.  He mewled, twisted in Diego’s unrelenting grip as the man’s teeth bit harder, worrying the flesh there and panting through his nose as he stroked slowly.  It was dizzying, intoxicating; the mix of pain in his shoulder blended deliciously with the pleasure of that talented hand, palm sliding over his skin, fingers dancing, thumb rolling hard over the head of his cock.  He couldn’t get enough; he arched and thrust into Diego’s touch, leaning his head back against the man’s shoulder to keep those teeth locked onto his skin.

Then, in a move so sudden Kevin couldn’t quite comprehend it, Diego released him completely and shoved him against the wall again, one hand firm in the middle of his back, holding him in place.  Just when Kevin thought he had never been more aroused in his life, the teeth returned, latching onto skin, his voice dying to a pained moan as Diego leaned hard against him, lapping at the mark he’d left and holding him prone.  His breath was coming in pants against Kevin’s neck, his fingers clawing at his hips, digging in as he rocked against Kevin’s ass.

Then the pressure was gone.  Kevin turned slightly, peering over his shoulder to see Diego backing away a few paces.  Smirking, Kevin shifted so he could face the man, his hand snaking over his hip to tease at his own neglected erection.

“Stop,” Diego said.  His voice was clipped, his dark eyes boring into Kevin’s.  More out of surprise than anything, Kevin’s hand halted at the base of his dick, and he tilted his head with a silent question as Diego appraised him, his face expressionless as he approached again.  He put his hands flat on the wall on either side of Kevin’s head and leaned down, capturing his lip with his teeth and pulling.  Kevin’s hand tightened, and he whimpered.

“Please,” he whispered against Diego’s mouth, his breath shuddering.

In response, the man ducked his head to the side, covering that last bite mark with his lips and sucking lightly on the skin there.  The pressure of his tongue on freshly-bruised flesh was almost intolerable, a decadence he didn’t know he’d wanted, and he moaned and thrust involuntarily into his hand.

There was another sharp pain on his neck as Diego bit down again, just for a moment, then drew away.  There was blood on his lips, curved into a twisted grin.  The man backed away a few paces, but when Kevin made to follow him, fingers shoved him back again with enough force to add to his growing collection of bruises.

“You stay there,” Diego growled.  He sat down on the arm of the couch, crossing his legs at the knee and folding his hands in his lap.  “Tell me what you want, tell me about the things I would do to you.  I want to hear it from your filthy mouth.  And  _ don’t,” _ he added, as Kevin’s hand stuttered and fluttered over the head of his cock, dripping with want, “touch yourself until I tell you that you can.”

“I -”  Kevin stopped.  This was something he’d never experienced, though he’d fantasized.  It seemed Diego knew what he was doing, though, and he wanted to get it right.  “What do you want me to say?” he asked in a small voice.  “What - what is it you want to hear?”

“Darling, I want to hear whatever you want to say.  I want to hear about what you’ve been thinking about while you’re leaning over me in the studio.  I want to hear about what you think about when you touch yourself in the dark of night.  I want to hear you get off to the things I could do to you.”

_ “Christ.” _  Kevin’s hand started towards his dick again, but he stopped when he remembered Diego’s instruction.  He clenched his fist against the wall instead, leaning his head back and thrusting into dead air instead, his eyes sliding shut.  “I want - you to take me,” he started.  “I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t stand.”

“That’s a good start.”  There was a rustle of fabric from the couch.  “Tell me more.  How would it happen?  Where would we start?”

Kevin shuddered.  “In the shop,” he said, and he couldn’t help but trace a couple fingers over the swollen bite on his neck, tracing through the ooze of drying blood with a groan.  “We’re finishing up your piece.  I glance down and see that - see that you’re hard.”  A flush crept up his neck, coloring his cheeks and making his ears burn.

“Go on,” Diego murmured, still shifting, but Kevin didn’t dare open his eyes.

“I put the machine down, and I pull you up so you’re sitting on the edge of my table.  I kneel between your legs.  You push my face into your crotch, rubbing against my mouth through your pants.  Your hands are fisted in my hair, holding me exactly where you want me.”

“Good.  Rub that beautiful bite I gave you and play with your nipple,” Diego commanded.

Kevin did as he was told, coating his fingers in what little blood was still there and trailing his fingers down his chest, leaving a streak of red in its wake.  He flicked his nipple, pinching it between his fingers and twisting a little, a gasp escaping his mouth.  “You push me away,” he continued without prompting, rolling his nipple absently and swallowing hard, “just long enough to get your pants open, and you shove your cock down my throat, until I’m swallowing it, choking on it, but you don’t care.”  Diego let out a soft noise of approval, and Kevin’s cock bobbed in appreciation.  His other hand skated over the skin of his flank, sneaking down towards his groin.  “My knees are sore, I can’t breathe, you’re pulling on my hair so hard there are tears in my eyes, and  _ I love it.” _

Diego growled, and in an instant he was standing in front of Kevin again, threading his fingers through his hair and yanking his head to the side.  He put his lips to Kevin’s ear, breath coming hot and heavy as his free hand gripped Kevin’s cock.  Heat thrummed through Kevin’s body as he stroked once, twice, the edge racing up too fast, building until he felt like he was going to explode.

_ “Come, now,” _ Diego hissed, and Kevin bucked against him with a sharp cry, spilling over his hand and splattering both their shirts.

Kevin collapsed, his legs shaking, against the man’s chest.  Diego wrapped his arms around him and gently lowered them both to the floor, cradling him in his lap and stroking his hair as he panted, heart pounding.

“Good boy,” Diego murmured.  “You did so well for me.”  He pressed his lips to the top of Kevin’s head, his fingers trailing over the rings in the shell of his ear.

Kevin gave a little moan as a shiver ran through him, his cock twitching in the aftershock.  He nuzzled against Diego’s stomach, curling into a little ball in his lap.  “‘Mazing,” he murmured as the tremors in his limbs started to lessen.

“Yes,” Diego said, kissing him again.  “You are.”

**Author's Note:**

> (i was looking over this after sleeping on it and realized that I was basically just putting scenes as chapters of their own, so I kind of...threw it all together as one chapter. This means it'll be a hot minute before it's updated, but hopefully it flows a bit better. Sorry for my terrible story planning.)


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